


Country Song

by Mileycfan4eva



Category: Chicago Fire, Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29265552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mileycfan4eva/pseuds/Mileycfan4eva
Summary: Matt finds out Sylvie's been keeping a secret from him. When her secret is revealed will he forgive her or fight her for custody?
Relationships: Jay Halstead & Hailey Upton, Stella Kidd/Kelly Severide, Sylvie Brett & Stella Kidd, Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Kudos: 8





	Country Song

Fandom: One Chicago

Title: Country Song

Chapter 1: Meant To Be

P O V: Matt Casey

Molly's South Side

In Hyde Park

61st Street

(A/N: I hate these disclaimers, but hate jail and lawsuits even more so here goes the usual I own none of the One Chicago characters only my original characters. All others belong to NBC Wolf Entertainment. Please review, ty for reading, following and saving my fics as favorites.)

"What happened between us can't ever happen again."

"You're just going to let it go, Casey?"

"It's what she wants, Severide; it's what's best for her."

The voices of Kelly Severide and Sylvie Brett fill my head memories of the conversations we've had over the last few weeks. Replaying the way broken records do when they have a scratch on them no matter how you polish and clean the surface, no matter what tricks you attempt to do to clear the blemish, in the end, the inner core of the records is forever altered beyond repair.

"Hit me." I don't look up to see the bartender whose name I don't know because I never asked. We're all at the opening of Molly's South Side location in Hyde Park, two blocks from the University of Chicago. I came here to forget, and I know I am nowhere near drunk enough, not when I am still repaying these conversations inside my head.

"I've been avoiding you, so I don't do this."

"It's always been you Matt, Every time I needed a friend, a voice to give my reason a rhyme or a rhyme to my crazy reasoning. Someone to offer me advice or a shoulder to cry on, it's always been you, every time I turn around with another crisis. You've been my one constant, Matthew Casey."

"You're a great captain, Casey; you weigh the variables before you decide. The fact that you beat yourself up afterward is what makes you an amazing human."

"Scotch straight up." By the skin of my teeth, I look up only in time to glimpse the bartender replace my empty glass, I can feel the burn of the warm liquid taking effect inside my mind, but it's not enough. It'll never be enough to make me forget no matter how many bars I hit or how many drinks I consume.

"I'm sorry about how things went down." I can still see Sylvie's face as we stood in my quarters, her slouched posture, those beautiful wide eyes staring at me in shock as she listened to me two days after we started a steamy kiss inside her house.

"No, don't be like I said, Matt, this is all on me." the guilt in her voice mixed with disappointment, the shimmer of her misty eyes shining with tears bringing the orange side lump to close around my trachea. Sylvie had built up her hopes for us to become a couple, and now they were shattered. "It's on both of us, Sylvie." Bewilderment filled her innocent, unsuspecting idealistic eyes when I said those words back to her; at that moment, she never looked more beautiful. I am so stupid nothing was her fault this is all on me and my inability to let go of the past; if only I could have said those words, she was hoping to hear.

"If Gabby came back, would you still choose me?

Flushed checks the color of two beautiful cherry roses wet lips divinely tasting like sweet spice parted in consternation at the words that came out of them. She wasn't planning to ask, not mid-make-out sessions, yet those words came out of her mouth, leaving us in suspended anticipation and distress.

"It's complicated, Sylvie."

Fragmented detonation, all it took were three words. I watched her face shatter like glass; one crack became asplintering effect. Sylvie took a chance, opened her heart to me, bared her soul, and in three words, I crushed every hope and dream she ever had so simply I never knew how deeply I wounded her.

"I don't regret it, Sylvie." Till those words came out of my mouth two days later, back inside my quarters, I watched her face trying to make sense of all of this; what didn't I regret? Kissing her, getting her hopes up, or destroying them, she couldn't quite understand the meaning of my words, and the sounding of the bell left me with no time to clarify. So I stood back and watched her run off to help someone else in distress, someone who was having the worst moment of their life.

I couldn't stop feeling myself at that moment that I was an eradication to my own soul, a one-person wrecking ball, no need to call in Miley Cyrus to dynamite my world into disintegration. I was doing a fine job of this achievement myself clawing at my heartstrings or wrapping my heart into twines of chains.

My words, my choices, I destroyed my world 100% all my own accord; I fell under Sylvie's spell one glance in her direction became a need to know where she was at all times.

"You got it, bad man." Kelly's voice talking to me forces me to turn away from where I am staring at Sylvie. Who is leaning against a pool table watching Stella Kidd, Hailey Upton, Kim Burgess, and Gianna Mackey, Leslie Shay dance in the middle of the game area between two pool tables?

"I'm fine, Kelly." "No, you are stupid brother, all Sylvie wants is for you to commit to her, tell her how you feel, tell her that Gabby isn't on your mind 24/7, that she is the one you are thinking about, Matt all the woman wants is reassurances she is your number one."

"It's too late, Kelly; she's dating Greg, the jerk from engine 40."

"Why is he a jerk?" Kelly wiggles his finger so the bartender can see that he needs a refill. He keeps talking to me through his eyes are bouncing back from Sylvie and Stella towards me. I don't look up to meet his eyes. "Seems like a solid dude to me."

"He's too perfect Kelly guys like Greg always have skeletons in their closest, and I can't pinpoint what it is about Greg that makes me suspicious. She doesn't seem happy for someone who is in a new relationship. Sylvie is always so lively a ball of fluffy energy; now she's slumped over, arms crossed, I haven't seen her crack a smile all afternoon. Sylvie's been staring at her phone the entire night."

"Bro, she found out four days ago that her brother died, her family is here she hasn't seen them in over a year with COVID, she has family traveling to Indiana to attend the funeral tomorrow, why would she look happy? I'd be more worried if she were acting like Everything was peachy."

"I know that, Kelly, but something is off, and where is Mr. Perfect? When your girlfriend's brother dies, you think you would be by your girl's side."

"Maybe he's working, maybe Sylvie asked him not to come they've only been dating a few weeks. If you are so worried about Brett, go talk to her, Matt, instead of sitting here mopping over the one that got away."

"Expert advice from Mr. Avoidance 101."

"Not the same thing man, I'm staying away from Stella for her own good, no matter how much it hurts me; love is about sacrifice, man, making sure the other person's needs come before your own happiness."

"Love is selfless, Kelly?"

Twisting to my right, I look back at Stella and Sylvie; all I feel is my heartbreak watching how beautiful Sylvie looks; her head lifted slightly to offer Stella a small pained smile. Stella dances around Sylvie, singing out Save up all your tears by Cher trying to get a smile from Sylvie. Damn, she looks incredible from her squared toe brown leather boots to the tight acid-washed denim jeans clinging to all her curves, hips. Jeans resting below her navel. Sylvie has a loose-fitting red crop top competed with a single-breasted plaid jacket; her beautiful lean figure is a sight of wonder for my sore eyes.

Expressive cyan ensconced eyes resembling Caribbean ocean waves rolling with so many emotions are sedated deep in her face. I can't see them clearly now to see what they are saying; I can only make out the glow of her beautiful cherub rose cheeks. "She's angry about something bro, she just threw her phone clear across the room; she's lucky Jay's head blocked her phone from shattering."

"Yeah, poor Jay, that will hurt."

"Talk to her, Matt, or stop staring; it's creeping the other ladies out."

"Yeah, you scare off any customers, I'll be crashing on your couch Casey, Cindy threatened to divorce me if this idea fails for the new bar." "Copy that Herrman hit me with another shot."

"You sure that's a good idea? We have a funeral to attend tomorrow. Yö Ritter, get to work; stop running to the floor, get over here and stand at the counter; we have customers here start serving at the bar."

"That's exactly why I need another shot too many damn funerals this year, last year whatever the hell you want to call it."

"Yo, buy me a shot, boys, Herrman, can I get some ice? Some whack job just threw her phone and slammed me in my head."

Jay Halstead comes up holding his head, groaning, eyeing the entire crowded room. "I bet it was Hailey; for whatever reason, she's pissed as hell at me. I have no frigging clue what I did, and I think she's on her time of the month; man, does she ever get bitchy."

"We feel you, Jay, sure I'll buy you a round, Herrman three shots of whiskey and a bag of ice for Jay."

"Ice ain't free, boys."

"Oh, cool, Herrman, no problem. I see about three infractions right off the bat; I can have an inspector down here in say ten minutes."

Christopher Herrman swallows nervously, putting down the glass he was polishing and turning to Darren Ritter. "Yo Ritter, what good are you standing around doing jack shit? Get the man some ice, now."

Rolling his eyes, Ritter lets out a sigh heading to the back to grab the ice pack muttering about Herrman's indecisive nature. "How's Sylvie doing, Matt? I wanted to see her, but she seems off tonight."

"Oh, Matt wouldn't know Jay; he's too chickenshit to go talk to her. You know, since they kissed, and he blew her off."

"I didn't blow her off, Kelly; she friend-zoned me."

"Oh, why did she do that? Oh yeah, because you can't commit to her, you're worse than our kids. I swear Riagan and Riona have an easier time making a choice and sticking to it, Matt."

"Sylvie made it clear she wants space." Tearing my eyes away from Sylvie, I feel my heart slicing itself into tiny pieces, so many emotions course through my body, sending my chest into clutching reigns of terror and twisting my stomach; Sylvie is dangerous. One look at her gorgeous face. With one whiff of her delicious scent, I feel the razor blades slicing away at my heart and soul. My head is spinning left in free fall into a black hole of voices haunting me, mocking me of my choices.

I came here to forget to get wasted not looking to dance or start a conversation with anyone; I wanted peace to find some clarity. I have so much to think about ever since I ran into my ex-girlfriend yesterday. All I wanted was some alcohol, a good loud band, and to drown in a sea of people I didn't know; I chose this Molly's because we always hang out at the Molly's on Cortland street, the main one, I didn't think anyone would be here, guess life gave me one big F.U. sign.

"Maybe at the time she did, Matt, but that was before she lost her brother; she looks like she's hurting. I bet she would appreciate having a friend by her side." "Remind me again, Jay, what did you do to piss Hailey off?"

"The hell if I know, man."

"So why would take advice from you?"

"Because this isn't about us and how dumb we are, we're talking about a friend who has been devastated by the loss of her brother; she's an amazing person; Hailey told me how close you two have gotten over the last few years. If 2020 showed us anything, man, it's how precious life is and how powerful love is with healing. Tell Sylvie how you feel or at the very least go to her offer your condolences. To whom much is given, much will be required; God has blessed you with so many things Matt, including an amazing friend and coworker as Sylvie, don't let one kiss obliterate nearly seven-years of friendship."

"Sylvie knows I am here for her, Jay."

"Does she have you told her? Because from where I am standing, she reminds me of a scarecrow alone in a field her roots planted in one spot alone, and left to fend for herself against the winds trying to pull her in all different directions."

"Are you drunk, Kelly?"

"Not drunk enough, brother." The way Kelly stares at Stella alerts me to how much he is hurting. "Another round bartender. I'm paying Kelly." He nods as I slap his back as the bartender comes over. "Name's Luke, buddy." "Well, Luke three Heineken." "coming up, Man."

"Yo, I am out. I see Kim and Hailey coming this way. Good luck, Matt, see you tomorrow."

"See, Ya Jay Yo, Kelly, take your advice go talk to Stella."

"No way I can't. I know what I am doing brother, Stella deserves a chance to shine independently; she's a bad-ass firefighter, a powerful woman. Chief Conway has it in his head; she's only getting to the top because she's sleeping with me. I have to show her she earned the promotion to Lieutenant through hard work and dedication. I won't be the reason she's held back by some tight dick old age pettifogging toad."

"Another round."

"Hell yeah, a shot at forgetting!"

"Sounds like a plan, Kelly."

"Yup, this seals it." Kim shoves between the two of us, rolling her eyes. "Men are idiots ain't a clock ticking that's going to send either of you back to a time where men were not dimwitted buffoons."

"If this Conway dude is as old school as you make him out to be Kelly, then you aren't protecting Stella; you're setting her up for heartache cause she'll be unprepared to fight for what she desires. Stella is Latino and woman in a profession persevered by many as a profession for men, she already has an uphill battle, and she's sailed through it on her nits and wits."

"Women don't want our men to protect us; we are not fragile fucking dolls who will break the minute there's a crack in our foundation! We don't need you to play fucking heroes; we need your support, love, we need you to hold our hands, buy us flowers, tell us we're beautiful and smart and CAPABLE of kicking ass. WE DO NOT NEED PROTECTION. A.H.! Men make me sick!"

Kelly and I exchange looks backing up slowly as Kim slams her glass down. "REFILL NOW!" "Right now, Kelly, you are proving to her you are still the same self-centered asshole who refused to put her first, you're ignoring her, treating her as if she has a disability, non-existence made of glass, you are confirming her worst fears, that men are non-commitment pigs. As far as she's concerned, you are a cheating, lying bastard. You are bringing up all her fears about Renee all over again; congratulations if you were going for the title of a barbarian bastard. You are leading by a mile." Knocking back two more shots, Kim grabs a refreshed glass of beer.

She slaps Kelly's shoulder so hard he has to throw his hands out to steady himself on the counter; whipping his head, he turns to glare at Kim, who can't even stand up straight. Even though she has no issues holding up her full glass of Miller's lite high above her head, she twists her hips dancing to the song bumping hips with Hailey, who comes up high-fiving her.

"Oh, I'm not done yet. Don't think you'll escape, Matthew." Chugging her glass, she steadies her beady eyes on me. I can feel every hair on my body standing at attention, my nerves tighten, my heartbeat races. "You, Yes, you Matthew Dick Casey are the leader Neanderthals in the greater Chicago area; get off your balls and tell Sylvie how you feel."

"I swear you men are so clueless and stubborn at asking for directions with anything in life. I am surprised you can figure out how to get your dicks out of your pants and guide them into our vaginas. Are you trying to have your entire life being one giant dumpster dump-fire? Do us all a favor then, please and drive off a damn cliff; no woman wants a man who is this clueless and lazy. My God, that's it, you men are seriously so lazy, no wonder why women have been running households, bearing and raising the kids, and now working too! Because you men would never get this shit done!"

Staring at Kim in fear and shock, I find myself immobilized if I move will she shoot me? She's a police officer she always carries even when off duty; how many drinks has she had? What happened to the sweet-faced, shy, naïve patrol officer who started in the 21st district six-years ago? Where did she go? I liked her better; this version scares the shit out of me. I can feel my stomach churning. Kelly has placed his hand on my lower back. I can see his eyes are leery, watching Kim as she stumbles, shaking her fingers in our directions. Where did she get Dick from for a middle name?

"Adam thinks I am traumatized that I am acting on regret and foolish vibes? Adam is the one who is not thinking clearly; he's in such denial about our baby. He thinks if he pretends the miscarriage never happened, then it never actually happened. No need to talk about anything; it's my fault that's what he's afraid to say. Adam thinks I am fragile that I'll break if he says what he feels as if I am not feeling the agony of my baby's loss every day like I am too stupid to know that adopting Mikyla won't replace what we lost, as if Adam lost a damn thing!"

"He wasn't carrying this baby; he didn't get his ass-kicked. I did, and I know I can't replace what they took from me, but I can open my heart and home and give my love and time to a little girl who has no one to love her; maybe this is God's plan. Did Adam ever stop to think about it that way? NO! of Course Not! He just dishes out criticism, and I am supposed to be the good little girlfriend and say, why thank you, Sir, I am so glad I have a big strong, smart man to guide my little lost self."

"Yeah, you go, girlfriend!" Hailey slaps Kim's back, turning to Luke. "707, on the rocks, babe." "Men are so clueless we have to spell Everything out for them, well let me spell it out for you two losers. Men are quiescent willing to accept whatever comes their way, without fighting for their passions, without fighting for love… too scared to leave their comfort zone… but oh women have to do it all, shove our emotions down or will be called hormonal crazy bitches."

"No, we must be on that time of the month, Hails."

"Oh, yeah bitch that's even better, Kim; how many damn times have I heard that one this month alone."

"DON'T ASK!" they both turn to scream at us, leaving us fearful for our lives; Kelly and I both look at the counter-top and wonder if we can climb over it. Herrman is standing very far back, holding a massive Ever-clear bottle as if it is a bat.

"I all but spelled it out to Jay. F.B.I. in New York. Do you want me to go? The damn idiot can't even say the words stay Hailey. I want you in my life; I need you. Fuck, just tell me you love me! He's trying to be all chivalrous; when will he get it? I don't need a man to protect my feelings or be my bodyguard."

"Don't keep silent because you're afraid of holding me back on my career path, don't do me any damn favors. I know I am a bad-ass bitch, and if I want to transfer to the F.B.I. I can sure as hell do that here in Chicago, I don't need to move to N.Y.C. to advance my career. I want a boyfriend to hold my hand when I am scared in the movies, when I am drunk off my ass and can't tell real from fantasy. I want a boyfriend to make love to me as if I am the only woman in the world who he finds sexy. I want to be kissed under the stars in the rain, I want a man to say the words I love you, I need you, but to damn fro sure know that when ass-kicking time comes, I can be that bad-ass bitch without him protecting me."

Hailey pounds the glass down within seconds of finishing her rant. I slowly inch my way off the stool, but she spins so fast I am flattened in fear against the bar counter-top. I feel Herrman's hand on my shoulder. "I'll send your mom my sympathies and make sure she knows you loved her, Matt. Good luck, Captain."

"Oh, where do you think you are going, Captain? Not so obviously you should know Brett just discovered her amazing new firefighter boyfriend cheated on her. The day after she slept with him, the same day she told him about her brother's death, he went out and slept with another woman instead of comforting Brett. Rafferty sent Brett a photo ten minutes ago. She caught him in her roommate's bed mid-act and debated on rather she should tell her. Yeah, nice, huh? Point proven men are jerks!"

"Are they enough life clues for you boys? Do you need us to draw you a road-map?" Kelly and I tear away from the bar, leaving our drinks and Kim in mid-sentence. My mouth has gone dry as I slowly approach Brett, stopping mid-room taking a few deep breaths feeling the dizziness coming slowly over my skull. "She's phenomenal, ain't she, son?"

Remington Bennett Brett slings an arm around my shoulders as he comes up by me to admire his daughter. Every muscle inside my body clamps tightly. Remington stands well over six-feet-ten and weighs more in muscle than Kelly, and I put together. My guess is he is close to two-hundred pounds, not in body fat, only in sheer muscle gain from all the resistance and bodyweight training. His muscles strain against fabric at his forearms, biceps, and chest. I envy the size of his calves; the muscles broaden his back in layers.  
"Sylvie is gorgeous, Sir, no question about it, one of the sweetest, smartest ladies I have ever met. I'm sure you know that, of course, since you raised her."

"I sure did son, I knew right from the minute I held her as a tiny baby that she was bound for amazing things. I always told her she could do anything, be anything her heart desired; I'm sure every dad thinks their daughter is the greatest thing since they invented apple pie. You have a daughter Matt, correct?"

"Yes, sir." How the hell did he know that? Has Sylvie been talking to her parents about me? About us Oh, God, did she tell him we kissed and I couldn't commit to her? "Yes, I have a daughter Riona. She's eleven. I donated my sperm to my friend Shay so she could have a child."

"A very noble thing to do for a friend son, a righteous friend carries each other's burdens, and in this way, you will fulfill the law of Christ. Riona, it is Irish for Queenly. I am sure you can relate then when I say my baby girl is my world. Sylvie was my firstborn; even if she was adopted, she was the apple for my eyes, the only daughter in all of this, I have five sons, and I love each one with a fierceness I can't describe, I would lie down my life for my kids, I would fight anyone who threatens them."

"My boys and I bonded via rough housing and playing outside together, working in the fields, kicking the football around, building forts in the backyard, mudding' and fishin' and hunting. Sylvie can do anyone of them things; hell, my little girl can probably out due to half the so-called men in this room. Still, Sylvie differed from her brothers; we bonded in different ways. Dancing was our favorite pastime, no matter how tired I was after a long day of working in the fields when my little girl smiled at me and said, dance with me daddy, well son ain't nothing in the world could ever stop me from taking my Cinderella in my arms and sharing that dance."

"Every little girl longs to know that she is beautiful. And she needs to hear it from her father. This reinforces what God already says about her and meets a genuine need for validation in your eyes. Trick son, that doesn't stop when they become women even bad-ass independent women need to be told they are God's gift; they all need and want to hear they are loved, treasured, and worth the time and energy you spend on them."

"Sylvie and I share an exceptional relationship we always have; she trusts her Mama and me to guide her towards God's path; therefore, she always shared with us how she was feeling, what she was thinking. Growing up in a small town, everyone knows everyone's business anyway, so there was never any point in hiding anything. We would always find out. My point, Matthew, is that even though she is a grown woman with a life outside of Fowlerton, Sylvie still trusts us. I know there are many aspects of this job, this life she chose that are dangerous and doesn't share with us to spare us from worrying. My boys are all the same way, but the one thing that will never change no matter how old they get, who they marry, how many kids they have, or how far they travel is that I will always be their father, and I will always know their hearts, and how they are feeling."

"Sylvie is crushed, and it isn't only because of her brother's passing. I know every look my daughter has ever worn on her face, the look she is giving you now mean you did it, you broke it, only you can fix it, so son, I am advising you to get off your ass and fix it before I get my rifle and fix you."

Is he kidding? He has to be where would he keep a rifle? This is Chicago. Would he seriously bring a weapon across state lines? Something in his eyes warns me not to mess with him; nodding crisply at him; I hurry over towards Sylvie; she's lining up a perfect shot at the pool table. The jukebox in the back is playing songs I know the words to, so I tap my foot, watching her as I lip-sync the lyrics to the latest music. No live band tonight because of COVID, but you couldn't even notice we pack the bar body to body pressed against one another. We are way over capacity, but our cops are drunk off their asses, so no one pays any attention to the rules. Cracking sounds of pool bslls hitting each other fill the room as Sylvie nails the shot she was aiming for, flashing Joe Cruz a little smirk.

"Hey, Sylvie, can we talk?" I gently tap her shoulder, earning a causal glance from her. I watch her eyes reflecting the choices in front of her, ignore my question, further drive home her point of needing space, or take the chance to hear me out. I'm thankful she nods towards me, hands her stick to Stella, and takes my hand, following me out of the smokey, noisy, overcrowded bar.

Taking off my leather jacket, I wrap it around her shoulders so she won't freeze. Her jacket is so thin, it's for show only. A beautiful smile rewards me, I spot Hailey and Jay a little further down on a bench talking, and I silently pray for Jay he'll need all the luck he can get tonight. "Sylvie, I am so sorry for your loss. Only those who are lucky enough to have a brother can understand the bond between them and the pain of losing them. My heart aches for your loss, and I wish I could take the hurt away from you. I've never had a blood-brother, so I know my words mean very little to you; I have lost more than my fair share of fire brother's though."

"Matt, they mean more than you can ever imagine to me; blood doesn't define brothers; love makes someone a brother or a sister."

"I'm sorry for freezing you out, Matt; my head has been spinning lately; I miss talking to you. I hope you understand and aren't mad. I just can't go back to the way things were right away. Lord knows I could use your friendship, but we both know I want more than friendship, and you aren't in a place to give me that, so this is how it has to be for now."

Tell her the truth Matt to open these lips spill the tea, as they say, tell her she's been on your mind all the damn time. I can't when I see the look in her eyes she's weighed down by guilt as it is; the last thing she needs to know all the sleepless nights I have been having thinking of her wondering how she is if she is happy, protected, loved. Wondering if she was lying awake thinking about me, worrying about me wishing she was lying beside me, these thoughts plagued me repeatedly night after night twisting my emotions like a loop on a roller-coaster.

Wishful thinking on my part. She wanted space, so there was no way she was pinning over me or this lost chance at love. "Everything okay, Sylvie? Your staring at me pretty intensely." Moving close, I see she is shivering. "Would you like me to hold you? Maybe you'll warm up a little." We need no words for answers. She moves quickly towards my arms, so I wrap mine around her body, inhaling her rich aroma of warm vanilla. Hoping my arms provide her the warmth she needs, not simply for body, but mind and soul as well.

"Greg cheated on me, Matt." Pain is bitterly laced in her voice, teeth clenched. I can't tell if it's from anger or the cold or a mixture of both. Every emotion known to man swells inside my chest, burning its way through in a dangerous gas-filled tornado. Sweeping from valley to valley, gathering up a new sentiment in each valley it deforests she's on the rebound my warning bells go up like a five-alarm blaze. I should walk away before one of us gets burned. Sylvie's heart has been broken in so many ways this week, and it can't be safe to be around her, to be inside of her mind or body. No way could she be thinking straight.

There is nothing more I want to do than hold her tight, run my hands through her hair or burn trails down her perfect body with my hands. "I was an idiot Sylvie, I'm sorry, I don't know why I couldn't say the words, I am a proud man, and I guess pride equals stupidly you have been on my mind for months Sylvie, you and only you. I think about you every waking moment you got my mind spinning in a thousand directions dreaming so many colorful dreams."

Mother nature is in full force tonight, ripping hissing winds over forty miles per hour trees are swaying, blowing garbage into the streets. I wrap Sylvie closer and lead her away from the entrance down the street, to a little patched roof of a closed cafe closer to Jay and Hailey. The temperature is dropping rapidly rain is pattering as it falls from the sky. "I want to be the arms you fall into; I want to wake up beside you, and only to you. Grow old together. I want you to have my babies, raise our kids together cheer each other on when we achieve anything and everything in life. I want to stand in front of our family and friends and promise you forever. With God as our witness and savior, I swear Sylvie; you are the only woman I love. No matter what the winds blow our way, I will stand by you, and I promise you, Sylvie, you can trust me, I will mend your broken heart and help you build a bridge to peace."

"Matt, do you mean it? Please don't play with me. I can't take another heartache, I am barely standing up straight tonight."

"I'm not messing with you Sylvie, I've learned a few things in the last few weeks all these sleepless nights worrying about you, wasted days without you in my arms. Wondering what I could have had if I had said the words you wanted."

My lips are stone dry, and I am sweating cold sweats, my throat is scratchy my head is spinning. All I can do is stare into her eyes, watching her as I tell her how I feel. "I ran into an ex-girlfriend yesterday, Gwen. She was the love of my life in college; I was nineteen and thought we would be together forever. I thought we had forever, so I took too damn long to ask her the question; she broke up with me the day I was going to purpose. For years I wondered what we could have had if I had asked her the question even a week sooner. I wondered where she was if she was happy, safe had the career she always dreamed she would have, got the four picture-perfect kids with the dog and white picket fence."

"Did she?"

"Yeah, Sylvie, she did; she's happily married to a decent man; they are lawyers, own a beautiful home on the gold coast, they have three kids. I spent all day wondering could they be my kids if I had asked her hours or days sooner, would I be living that life throwing the ball with my son in my backyard, teaching my daughter how to check the engine, or dancing on the porch after a long day of work."

"You have a daughter Matt; you don't do those things with her."

Sylvie's words hit me hard. I don't allow her to see the pain they inflicted on my soul though she's only honest. "Not by choice Brett, you know the arrangement I made with Shay was for my sperm to be used, but the kid would be hers, she didn't want me involved. Financially, emotionally or physically, she thought it would be too complicated for the Riona and Gabby."

"You regret that now Matt?"

Sylvie's fingers lightly skim my check as she waits for my answer. "It's complicated, Sylvie." "Yeah, that seems to be your favorite answer, Matt; the thing is, life isn't that complicated people make the complications. You may have rights have you ever sought to see what your rights are, Matt?"

"No, Sylvie and I won't do that to Shay, she's been her mother and sole guardian since the day Riona was born, Shay let me pick out a name I am blessed and grateful I got to do that; it's not like I never see her. I have watched her grow up since she was born, I babysit for her when needed. I've been able to experience many things from afar. Suppose Shay wants to tell her one day that I am her father than it's Shay's choice."

"She wants Riona and Riagan to believe they have the same dad; for now, they are only a year apart; they look alike, so it's believable. There's no need to confuse them at ten and eleven years old about sperm donors and how Kelly and I both donated to Shay. Let them be kids someday; they will be old enough to ask questions; then Shay will choose. She's their mother."

"I have no regrets, Sylvie, about any of this. I gave Shay the best gift ever, a child a miracle of life, and she is an amazing mom, but back to us, Sylvie, God brought me here to you. I want you to know Sylvie. For God to hear I love you and only you, I want to build a life with you if you will forgive me for taking so long. I want to trailblazer our love for everyone to see so everyone can understand I love you, no matter who has a problem with it, Sylvie."

"Matt, I have been waiting so long to hear those words God, I feel faint; I never thought I would hear those words coming from your lips. Tell me are you trying to fill a void Gabby left? Did seeing your ex cause you to long for Gabby? I don't want to be her replacement or your rebound."

"No, Sylvie, the opposite it brought clarity to me I understood God was trying to tell me Jeremiah 29:11 For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Gabby and Gwen came into my life when I needed to learn something from them, through my own fault and through things I couldn't control. Gwen taught me that being young and in love is wonderful, but it isn't perennially time is tantalizing and can't be wasted."

"Gabby taught me many of the things I fight hard for will turn out not to have been worth the fight, Pay more attention to what I am doing to make things go badly; marriage will teach me more about myself than I bargained for. I learned to listen to her feelings and validate her emotions. I learned to be someone's biggest fan isn't a marriage but being the one by their side day and night, no matter what I think of what they are doing, is what makes a good husband. I promise to take each of these lessons and apply them to our relationship, to keep my ears, eyes, and mind always open and listening."

"Can you come out of the shadows, Sylvie? I would love to see your beautiful eyes."

Stepping out of the patio, Sylvie slides closer to me; taking her hand, I gently pull her, so she closes the rest of the distance between our bodies. The glow of the streetlights mix with the shadow of the crescent moon, we're getting drenched as the downpour gathers in speed and precipitation. Reaching into her pocket, I feel her body stiffen, hear her breath gasp. My fingers brush against her thigh and pelvic bone, sending shivers through my body. Pulling out two small scrunchies from her pocket, I reach behind her head and wrap her hair around the back of her head.

Rain splatters off the cobblestone path, gleaming against the black tar of the streets; the sounds mixing with traffic pale compared to the thunderous beats of our hearts. "The back round doesn't matter to me, Sylvie, we can walk along the Champs-Elysee in Paris, or the middle of Bourbon Street in Mardi gras stuck in the middle of a cornfield being gawked at by the cows or right here on the streets of Chicago. Sylvie, as long as you are in my arms, that is all I care about, sweetheart."

"Sylvie, I will hold you tighter when the world tries to break you." Small moans escape her lips as I kiss her eyelids. "What if I fall or I get scared? I trusted Greg. He broke my heart. You don't know how you'll react if Gabby comes back."

"I promise honey, if Gabby comes back if bananas fall from the sky, I am yours and only yours. I will fight for you, hold you tight, dance under the raindrops, and do anything to make you smile."

"I'm so sorry Matt," Her words break up, and all she can make is stuttering sounds. Hot tears stream down her face; she squeezes her eyelids shut in the hope these tears would stop I assume. Sylvie's choppy breathing and watery eyes remain for quite some time. I hold her tight against my chest, not caring that her hot tears are soaking through my shirt. "No tears, Sylvie, I won't make you cry; I'll kiss away every tear." My lips kiss down her forehead to her checks and leave little puckering sounds under her eyes, kissing away her salty stream. "You are beautiful inside and out; I'll be here to remind your honey, you are my heart and my soul. I'll show you a love you've never experienced before."

Pulling her chin up, I lean down, breathing in the scent of vanilla, strawberry margaritas, and baby lotion. My lips touch her soft wet marks of perfection gently with affection caressing her back with my hands. Sylvie's feet stumble, addled by the tricks her brain and heart have played on her these last few weeks fueled by the alcohol. Drenched in the rain, our bodies are heavy, but our hearts are fluttering on the wings of love and hope. Sylvie's lips part for a minute, gasping in an adorable squeal of delightful breathlessness shock. Sylvie's knees weaken, so I wrap my arms around her waist, lifting her. Sylvie wraps her legs around my waist, locking her ankles behind my lower back. I carry her to the building and push her against the wall kissing her passionately, closing my eyes letting her lips take me to heaven. Our bodies smash together in a jungle of twisted limbs, heavy breathing perfectly fitting to mold into one form as each of our bodies was always meant to be molded together.

Moonlight creates shadows in the misty darkness; owls hoot, crickets chirp in the night. The air is still; the wind has slowed down its perfection at this moment, a slow fog has ascended from the sewers. I hold Sylvie in her embrace the world stops still on its axis. There is no time, no wind, no rain. How could it be that I hadn't seen Sylvie's love for what it was before? Pure. Unselfish. Undemanding. Free. I feel her body press in, soft and warm. This is the love I have waited for, prayed for. Inwardly I thank God and hug her tighter. A love like this is to be cherished for life. Finally, she is home in my arms.

Beauty so pure undaunted by the hands of Mac or Maybelline under the rickety streetlights, she stands vulnerable as I set her down, holding my hands on her waist breaking our kiss. When I feel my legs quivering, I feel Sylvie take my hand and pull me back to her body; she places my hands on her butt swaying with me to the music coming from the speakers; the lyrics are perfect I wonder if the universe is dancing in harmonious happiness this idiot finally got it right. I laugh and smile tracing my palm over her checks as I hold her dancing under the moonlight listening to the lyrics smiling.

In the still of the night

I held you

Held you tight

Because I love

Love you so

Promise I'll never

Let you go

In the still of the night

I remember

That night in May

The stars were bright above.

I'll hope, and I'll pray.

To keep

Your precious love

Well before the light

Hold me again

With all of your might

In the still of the night

So before the light

Hold me again

With all of your might

In the still of the night

In the still of the night

I lean down and capture Sylvie's lips in between mine, kissing her sweetly for a minute till suddenly she rips her lips away from mine, leaving me bewildered, blinking. I step back, staring at her, ready to ask her what the hell when I see the wide-eyed stare, ashen checks and her shriven posture. I follow her eyes to where they are focused on a shadowy figure standing no less than five feet apart from us; the shadow belongs to a teenage boy whose features are hard to make out in the darkness.

Rain plasters his hair, which I can't tell the color of; it could be jet black or silken blond; it's long I can see that coming down to his forehead past his cheekbones. If the boy hadn't been wearing shorts so tight they exemplify his bulge, it would have been easy to have mistaken him for a girl. The kids' jawline is square and robust, standing close; I can tell the young man is close to 5'5, a good-looking young man but very underweight. I step in front of Sylvie protectively; a kid out this late dressed this provocatively can only be looking for trouble.

The boy jumps when a car horn sounds out, suddenly disturbing the peace of the night. His eyes dart all over the place; small gasps escape his lips, which are set in a firm line of pale tightness. What does he want, food? Money? Drugs? He can't be stupid enough to turn tricks at a bar known to be frequented by cops, can he?

"I'm looking for Sylvie Brett." the boy's voice is shaken in fear and nerves, making him sound so young the way his feet tap against the rain and sidewalk reminds me of a puppy I once found as a kid in the alleyway next to my childhood home. Days upon days, I waited with food and water, trying to coax this frightened starved animal out of the shadows, the only place he felt safe after being abused by his former owners. Days turned into weeks, which became months I thought about this puppy every day of my life; I worried I never gave up hope through rain, snow or sunshine. I was there in that alley with treats, toys, and water. Finally, one day the puppy stopped barking at me and came over sniffed me until he felt safe and ate out of my hand. I begged my parents to let me keep him, but they refused, so my aunt took the puppy in and gave him a fantastic home.

I named him Asher, which means blessing.

I felt so much pain and fear for that little puppy who didn't deserve to be an outcast into the cold elements of the world defenseless. Why can't I find the same sympathy now as an adult for this child? Do we lose that sense of innocence and trust, our imagination that the world is a fair and justifiable place? Where does our sense of humor go to? With the openness to love and explore without questions or assumptions, there is no judgment in youth, no stereotypes. Children do not hate because they are born to hate; they don't fear another child who is different until we teach them to see differences as a weakness. Youth is electric, youth is power. I see the pureness in my daughter when I watch her play with her friends. She's a natural leader like her mother, always leading all her friends in the dances she's choreographed. Still, she doesn't need an audience. I've watched her have recitals alone in her room, smiling and shaking her hips as she performs like Madonna. She believes she can achieve greatness, and she shows no fear in reaching for the stars; that is pure innocence.

I've watched Riona help strangers carry grocery bags into their houses when she's on her walks; she knows about stranger danger, she's smart and level-headed, but her heart leads her to believe all people are good until they prove her wrong. Even the school bullies have a layer deep within them that wants to be nice, but they let their fears obscure their hidden layers.

A rarefied quality of ignorance. To not grasp imaginatively, death will come, to be ignorant of sexual advances by child perverts, to believe in the irrational; Santa Claus, fairies, and monsters under the bed. And, of course, the myth of the infinite power and goodness of parents. So when and where do we lose these fantastic qualities of youth? Is it a slow, dimmer switch of time passing and imagination coarsening as childhood slips into the days of our past? Why does being an adult mean we lose our rhythm and rhyme? Why, when standing in front of a child obviously hurt and thrown away by the two people who were supposed to be his protectors, do I feel the need to ostracize this child as if he is some villain in a movie?

No one cries in the village when the villain dies; they cheer, laugh, and hell even applaud; how did a child become a villain? Why can't I see him through the eyes of my daughter? She would offer out her hand, give away her last piece of the pie, and ask him simply do you need help?

What do I ask this child who looks on the verge of passing out from exhaustion? "What do you want? Who are you? Why do you want Sylvie?"

"The man sent me here." the boy looks ready to bolt his posture has gone stiff; he's holding his body with his arms across his chest as if I scare him, or we will steal his clothing. "What man?" Hailey and Jay have come closer now, edging carefully so as not to scare him. Hands are steadily reaching their hips, which answers my earlier question about them being armed.

"The man who took me away when I was six-years-old."

"He said she would be here...is she here?" Panic has now set into his voice. He looks like a caged rabbit behind me Sylvie screams, scaring all of us; it is the scream that bypasses the ears to speak right to the heart. It tells the listener that the person screaming isn't screaming for help; they've long gotten past the time for support to be affected, it's too late their hearts have been ripped out and left to bleed raw on the opening floor. They've suffered a pain unimaginable, yet it leaves you wondering what could be so damn bad?

Her knees give out, causing Jay and myself to leap to catch her steady her. "No, it can't be true; they told me you were dead, they found your body in the river." There is a scream of the mouth and lungs and a scream of the eyes and soul. If the former gets no response, the latter begins. Her voice has seemed to lose its vocals, but the look of haunted memories screams through her eyes and open-mouthed shock.

"Sylvie, sweetie, you know this kid?"

She stumbles back, clasping her heart with one hand and the other over her mouth. She looks ready to be sick. Her eyes flow over with tears. I put my arm out to grip her shoulder to show her she is not alone whatever this is about, whoever he is to her, I am here to carry the burden with her. "His name is Cashel Remington Casey." my head snaps so fast to my right to stare at her oscillating body, which is shaking in fear and hope. "excuse me, Sylvie, why does he have my last name?"

"Because he's...he's your..our son."

Sylvie's eyes roll in the back of her head. She lost the color from her face. It was as if her heart had suddenly stopped beating, and all the blood had run down into her boots. She swayed for just a moment before falling into my arms limp, and what at first appeared to me to be breathless; it isn't till I panic and drag her to the ground that I see she's breathing but out cold.

The world seems set ablaze Jay rushes inside to get Shay or Gianna. I lift my eyes to see Hailey holding the young man, so he doesn't bolt. Cashel Remington Casey, my son who I never knew I had. I am left with so many unanswered questions starting with the very pressing one.

How is he, my son?

A/N: In The Still OF The Night lyrics by the five satin's. Please review. Next chapter will be in Hailey' so all UpStead fans who want anything, in particular, hit me up.


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